


Touch of Grey

by missmaier



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fear Simulations, M/M, Newt is gay and ready to slay, Not Shippy, The Death Cure, eventual newtmas - Freeform, implied brinho, mostly focuses on Minho and Newt friendship, seriously if you're here for ship content its probably not for you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmaier/pseuds/missmaier
Summary: “Was that all for nothing? Six months of planning and we couldn’t even rescue one guy?”“We’ll track him down. WCKD isn’t going to be able to do anything to him before we strike back. You’ll see.”“For all our sakes, I hope you’re right. We need Thomas back.”--or: Thomas is taken by WCKD in the Scorch instead of Minho.





	1. Scattered in the Winds

**Author's Note:**

> hey there! so this is my take on what would go down if WCKD had taken Thomas rather than Minho in The Scorch Trials. this fic is mostly centric on the minewt friendship, as well as what leadership would've been like under Minho. also very much based on the Newt/Thomas dynamic and what it's like for Newt without Thomas around. with that being said, this isn't very shippy but I do hope you can still enjoy this!
> 
> also, big shoutout to my beta reader Quinn (antisocialraindoughgay on tumblr), and Rach (seaselkie) for helping me out with plot elements, as well as all my pals on discord<3
> 
> enjoy!

For the first time in days, the night was quiet. The only thing that broke the tranquility of the darkness was the gentle wind tearing through the air, tugging clumps of sand with it. Being that the small group couldn't spare the batteries for flashlights, the only thing that illuminated their way was the pale light of the full moon that barely peeked through the clouds.

Minho moved as quickly as he could under the cover of night, relying on mostly his sense of direction to guide him. The few that were behind him weren't far, their footsteps quiet but audible in the sand. He could just start to see the silhouette of a small outpost nearby, with a beaten up chain-link fence protecting it. Glancing backward, he could see Newt right next to him, shielding his eyes from the sand being blown into his face. Even after six months, no one could get used to that.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him turned from sand to a railing. Bingo. "Hey, guys!" Minho whispered, careful not to make too much noise. The Scorch was unpredictable; there was no telling what could be roaming about. "I found the railroad. Just follow the sound of my voice."

"Keep it down or every Crank in the area is going to be following the sound of your voice!" Brenda hissed under her breath but followed his directions anyway, a shotgun clutched tightly in her hands. Jorge was right behind her, then Newt, then Frypan, then Harriet, then Vince.

Moving from the railroad, it didn't take the group long to reach the fence, and they lingered outside for a moment, Vince using the only light the moon provided to look at the watch on his wrist. "How much longer?" Newt asked.

"If all goes according to plan," Vince started, squinting at the numbers. "Should be right about-"

He was cut off by a sudden light illuminating the Scorch, as well as a massive explosion only a few hundred feet away. A massive cloud of smoke rose in the air as the flames turned to ash.

"Right about now." He hadn't even needed to say it; the group had set into motion, pulling masks over their face and unloading the smoke bombs from their packs. Newt already had his hand on the pin, and Minho placed his hand on his arm to stop him.

"Wait. Not yet." When they head the noise of a door opening and shutting, Minho said, "Now!"

All at once, they threw their smoke bombs over the gate, making the area absolutely impossible to see. Under the cover of the heavy smoke, they climbed over the gate, moving to circle the building. Everyone had their guns out and loaded now, and were moving quickly towards what they had identified to be the back door. The WCKD guards that were usually stationed there were gone, presumably checking out the site of the explosion.

Jorge bent down, pulling out a small tool and his hands quickly went to fumble with the lock. The rest stood defensively around him, should the guards choose right then to come back. It wasn't long before the lock fell to the ground with a soft clink against the pavement. "We're in," Jorge said triumphantly, pushing open the back door to the large outpost.

They had never been inside, but it was pretty much what Minho had imagined it to be. A once sturdy building was falling apart from age and sun exposure, the walls chipping away and a layer of dust in the air, making it difficult to breathe. The only things that looked to be newer were the plaques placed on the walls labeled WCKD: World Catastrophe Killzone Department, and the science equipment laying about.

Slowly, Minho, Newt, and Brenda crept down one hallway, while Jorge, Vince, and Harriet took the other. Frypan stood at the back door, keeping an eye out. So far, their plan was going swimmingly; distract the guards, stay concealed under the smoke, split up and meet up with the group that had laid the bombs later.

"Do you suppose they're keeping the Immunes in these rooms?" Newt kept his voice down, eyeing the doors that were ahead.

"Only one way to find out." Minho crept towards the door, placing a hand on the handle. Both Brenda and Newt raised their guns, ready to shoot anything that tried to attack. With a jerk, Minho pushed the door open, his gun now raised as well.

They were met with a scream.

The room was crammed full with four bunk beds and eight kids, all huddled as far back from the intruders as they could get. Their eyes held more terror than Minho could've ever imagined someone to have, and he could only imagine what they had been through. The offending screamer was a little girl who couldn't have been any older than 11, clutching her pillow like her life depended on it.

The three immediately lowered their guns, and Brenda crept forward carefully. "It's okay. We're not with WCKD. We're here to help you."

The kids exchanged wary glances with another before a boy who appeared to be in his late teens spoke up. "Are you with the Right Arm?"

"Yes," Newt replied, moving to the nearest bunk and offering a hand to the immune child who sat there. "You're free now. You're okay."

As quietly and as quickly as they could, they escorted the immunes out of the room and down the hall, where they had come from. Brenda went with them since they wouldn't have much longer before the WCKD guards came back and all hell broke loose.

Newt and Minho traveled from room to room, some of them filled with kids like the first one; some filled with beds, but empty. Minho could see Newt's growing anxiety as each room had a common theme: Thomas wasn't in them. As his expression became more and more sullen, Minho put a hand on his arm. "Hey. Don't worry about it. Harriet's group probably found him, and he's with the rest of them now."

Newt looked as unconvinced as Minho felt.

Once they had cleared out the last room, the two began to work their way back to the back door, behind another group of kids they didn't recognize. Thomas, Aris, Sonya. None of them had turned up. And neither had a single guard, which made Minho feel more uneasy by the minute.

Newt voiced his thoughts aloud. "It's too quiet."

"Don't jinx it."

Right on cue, a man dressed in a black WCKD uniform became visible at the end of the hallway. The immune kids had spotted him too, quickly ducking behind whatever cover they could. Minho and Newt dove behind a counter. Too late. The man had spotted them, and he began to speak into a walkie-talkie.

His voice was frantic. "It's Anderson! Get the hell down here! I think I found the cause of the noise." Minho peeked slowly over the counter but quickly flinched back down when the sound of a gun being fired met his ears. Anderson barked out one last thing into his walkie: "Tell them to get the train out of here now." The immune kids quickly ran down the hallway, but the guard wasn't paying them as much mind; Newt had moved above the counter, firing his own gun.

The guard called Anderson screamed when Newt managed to shoot his hand, the bullet flying clean through and destroying the walkie-talkie, cutting off the replies of his fellow guards. The two boys quickly rushed him, Minho picking up his gun and shoving it into the holster on his thigh. Newt yanked Anderson forward by his shirt, and the guard whimpered, his hand still in pain.

"What train were you talking about?" Newt asked, his tone laced with venom and hatred. Minho made no move to stop him; he stood behind his friend, handgun still ready in case the wounded guard attempted something. Anderson didn't answer immediately, and Newt shook him for emphasis. "Answer me!" His voice didn't raise, but it very much could if the answer was withheld from him.

"I'd suggest you answer his question," Minho spoke up behind him, and realizing that he couldn't win this one, Anderson relented.

"We've been loading the immune kids into a train headed for the city," he said, glancing out the window nervously. "We'd only loaded about half of them on before we saw the explosion. We thought it could be serious, so a squad went to check it out. We haven't heard from them since."

If the squad that had gone to inspect the bomb were missing, then that meant the Bomb Group had done their job. Even so, the words Anderson spoke left a funny feeling in Minho's gut. Newt seemed to feel the same, as the two exchanged a nervous glance. "Was there a boy named Thomas on the train?" Newt asked, turning back to Anderson. "Our age. Brown hair."

"I couldn't tell you, kid. I don't know their names. I just follow orders." His last sentence had made his voice shaky, and it became obvious that he was scared for his life. Newt opened his mouth but was cut off by the sound of a train engine starting.

"Oh, god," Minho muttered under his breath, and they abandoned the guard for the nearby window. Anderson quickly scrambled away, clutching his injured hand. There was a light outside that hadn't been there before, and it appeared to be the headlights of a large cargo train. As it began to move, Minho and Newt took off towards the back door, where the rest of the group was waiting.

Upon seeing them, Harriet approached quickly. "Hey, where were you guys? We heard gunshots-"

"Where's Thomas? Did you find him? Is he with you guys?" Newt spoke quickly, his eyes scanning the group for a sign of their friend.

Brenda exchanged a glance with Jorge, and Frypan said, rather slowly, "We thought he was with you."

Disappointment and a bit of anger settled in Minho's chest, and Newt looked like he was going to collapse at any given moment. "He was on the train," Brenda said what they all were thinking.

"Sonya? Aris?" Harriet spoke up again, her voice sounded uncharacteristically quiet and defeated. When no one replied, she swore under her breath and leaned against a wall, her eyes clouded over and a grim expression on her face.

"We were so close…" Newt's voice cut them all like daggers, and he hung his head. Vince placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I understand what you kids are going through, but there will be time for that later. We _need_ to get these kids out of here and back to base as soon as possible." His voice was gentle but firm. He was right, Minho knew it. Snapping back to attention, he pulled the mask back over his face and drew the rifle from over his shoulder.

He left the building without a word, and the others followed his lead, weapons ready and on alert. The last of the smoke was wafting in the air, most of it having been blown away by the wind. The sounds of the train were fading into the distance, the only other noise accompanying their footsteps.

"They're over there!"

Minho spun around at the yell and saw that there was a group of about four or five guards heading towards them. "Get them out of here!" He yelled over the noise, and he crouched behind cover, popping up and firing when he could. Brenda and Harriet were on either side of him, Harriet actually managing to take out one of the guards.

"I still have a smoke bomb!" Brenda gasped, pulling it out from her satchel. At Minho and Harriet's nod, she threw it straight at the guards, obscuring their vision. They used the cover to slip past the guards and out of the gate, where Newt was waiting.

The last of them made it out and moved back towards their trucks that sat about a mile out of the outpost. The walk back was quiet, Harriet and Newt looking just as bad as Minho felt. Frypan was quiet as well, not even attempting to make conversation or lighten the mood like he normally did. After six months of careful planning and gathering resources, they had failed their friends.

But Minho knew, deep down, that it wasn't going to be the end.

\---

The Bomber Group met up with them when they got back to base.

It was comprised of four people: Cassidy, a young Indian woman who was looking for her missing best friend; Charlie, an older teenager whose brother had been taken by WCKD during the raid on the Right Arm; and Dominique and Andrea, twins who had lost their older sister to WCKD as well.

Cassidy and Charlie approached Minho first, both looking apologetic and almost guilty. "Did that group of guards get to you? We held them off as best as we could, we were able to take most of them out, but…" Cassidy bit her lip in the middle of her speech, glancing over at Charlie.

Minho waved a hand. "It's okay. It wasn't a problem."

Seeming satisfied with his declaration, the two turned around again, looking for their lost friends and family members in the crowd of immune kids. Minho had expected the kids to talk on the way back, but none of them did, all sinking into a silence. Whatever WCKD had done to them, whatever WCKD was doing to them, was truly awful. In Minho's eyes, it couldn't even be justified as saving the world.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Newt walk off from the group, setting his pack down on a bench outside of the building before stalking in through the door. He moved to follow his friend, but Frypan grabbed his shoulder. "Give him space. Talk to him in a bit, but for now, let him be.”

Minho cast a regretful glance at Newt's retreating body, but he knew that Frypan was right. He turned away, heading towards Brenda instead, who had moved to her own area with a book. Jorge wasn't around, but Minho figured that he would be soon.

When he approached her, she was sitting on a stool with her back leaning against an old, rusted car, appearing to be deep in thought. She was reading, but her mind was quite obviously somewhere else.

"Good book?" He asked, which jolted her out of her thoughts, and she cleared her throat.

"Uh, yeah. Fantastic." Brenda sighed, casting a glance at Minho. "Was that all for nothing? Six months of planning and we couldn't even rescue one guy?" She bit her lip, eyes flickering over to the group of immune kids, some reuniting with their loved ones. "I guess not for nothing."

Minho's gaze followed hers, and he found himself at a loss for words. After a moment, he spoke in an attempt to provide some semblance of comfort. "We'll track him down. WCKD isn't going to be able to do anything to him before we strike back." Seeing that his words were at least easing her tension a little bit, he placed a hand on Brenda's shoulder. "You'll see."

Brenda reached up and held his hand on her shoulder, leaning her head on his arm. "For all our sakes, I hope you're right. We need Thomas back."

Minho let out a dry, humorless chuckle, his thumb rubbing gently against her shoulder. "Truer words have never been spoken."

Just then, Jorge walked up, giving Minho a nod in greeting before flipping open the hood of the car and started to fumble with it. Brenda lifted her head off of Minho's arm and moved her hand back down to her book, and he took that as his cue to leave.

As he walked back through the courtyard, Vince was speaking to the immune kids. Minho didn't bother tuning in to listen; he wanted to talk to Newt.

Moving inside the building, it didn't take him long to find his friend. Newt sat on top of the roof like he always did when he wanted to be alone, eyes glazed over as he watched the waves lap at the shore. Minho sat down next to him without a word, following Newt's gaze to the shore.

"That can't be it."

Minho turned his head, looking at Newt. His brows were furrowed together, his lips etched into an almost permanent frown. He met Minho's gaze for a second before he kept talking. "Every day, you and the other Runners ran the Maze, even though it was just the same patterns repeating over and over. You kept going, in the hope that something would change one day. But it never did. Not until Thomas came along." Newt sighed and looked down at his lap. "He's the reason everything changed, the reason we're free. So we can't let him suffer at the hands of WCKD any longer."

Minho bit his lip, eyes moving away from Newt to the horizon. "You're right. If anyone deserves to see the Safe Haven, it's him." His head hung, and he glanced over at Newt again. "I don't even know where to start, man. It took us 3 months to find the outpost they were keeping him in, and 3 more to get all the supplies we needed. I don't know if he has that long."

The two sunk into a somber silence for a moment, before Newt spoke again, his voice filled with more life than Minho had heard in a long time. "Wait. That guard said something about a city." He looked to Minho, his eyes bright. "How many cities have you heard of, Minho?"

"Um… none."

"Exactly!" Newt looked more excited than Minho had ever seen him ever and it was quite frankly starting to freak him out. Seeing that he wasn't catching on, Newt elaborated. "There can't be many cities left, can there?"

"So that means, it should be easy to find Thomas…" Minho slowly realized. From what he knew there wasn't much civilization left, the last of the cities having fallen long ago. "Let's go talk to Vince."

"Right behind you." Newt was on his feet before Minho had even finished his sentence, the two heading back downstairs and into the room where they had been planning the rescues for the past few months. Vince was already there, as well as Frypan.

"Was wondering when you two would be down here," Vince greeted, leaning on the table. It was scattered with maps and other pages, but Minho was only looking for one.

"Here!" He pulled out a map of the area of the Scorch they were in, surveying the map as well as he could. Newt was standing right next to him, looking over his shoulder. Where their camp was was marked with a huge red X and the outposts that they had located in their searches for Thomas were scribbles all over the map. "Vince, do you know of any cities?"

Vince looked confused. "The hell are you kids going on about? There aren't any more cities."

"We cornered a guard in the outpost," Minho started, eyes surveying the map again. "He said something about a city, that the train was heading to ‘the city.'" He let his words sink in for a moment. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"Sounds promising." Frypan shrugged, looking over at Vince, who seemed just as clueless as the rest of them were.

Vince shook his head. "I don't know what to tell you kids. I want to get Thomas back just as much as you do, but I really haven't heard of any cities that are still around."

"I have." A new voice joined the mix, and Jorge leaned against the doorframe. "The Last City. It's the only city in the continent that's left, or even in the world for all we know. It's WCKD's main base of operations." His lips pressed into a grim smile. "It's the lion's den, hermano."

Jorge stepped forward, marking the area on the map, Newt and Minho both hovering over it, Frypan not far behind them. It seemed to be a few hundred miles from their camp, but it was doable. Seeing Vince's hesitance, Newt spoke up. "We have to take this chance. If Thomas is there, we can't just leave him. Who knows what WCKD will do to them."

"Exactly," Minho agreed. "I say we leave now. Or as soon as possible. I can't stand the thought of him being in there for another second."

"Wait, hold on a second." Vince held up a hand, which stopped the shuffling the boys had already begun. "We can't just drop everything and go after him. I get that he's your friend, but I have all of these immune kids to take care of and once that boat is ready we're leaving." The room settled into an uneasy silence, and he continued, his voice gentler this time. "I'm sorry. I can't help you with this one. But I wish you the best of luck."

Minho sighed, glancing over at Newt, who looked crushed. He put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Vince shushing them. Another moment of silence, and there was the sound of at least one Berg in the sky, and close. Everyone scrambled into action, shutting off all the lights so that they wouldn't be spotted.

Vince moved outside with Minho, watching the WCKD Bergs fly across the sky, their lights illuminating the ruins near them. "They're too close," Minho murmured, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of them finding the camp.

"We have to leave as soon as possible, Minho. I'll wait as long as I can for you, but I can't stay forever." His voice was firm, but Minho knew he wasn't being harsh. It was just reality.

"I wouldn't want you to." Minho nodded. "I understand."

Vince clasped his shoulder, and turned, heading back inside. Minho watched the Bergs for a moment more before following him.

There was no way in hell WCKD was keeping Thomas. Not for another moment.

\---

An hour later found Newt, Minho, Frypan, and Brenda loading up a truck, filled with the bare necessities but enough to keep them alive.

"You sure Jorge is okay with you leaving?" Minho asked Brenda as he loaded a backpack in the car next to her, slinging a rifle over his shoulder. "Have you at least talked to him?"

Brenda let out a breathy chuckle. "I can take care of myself."

"Are you…" Minho started, and at a raised eyebrow from her, chose his next words carefully. "Feeling… alright?"

She sighed, looking as irritated as ever like she always did whenever he brought it up. "I'm not a Crank yet, am I? Haven't tried eating Newt yet, so I guess that's a good sign."

"Why would you be eating me?" Newt came up next to them, loading his own pack into the car. He leaned against the frame, giving the two a slightly amused look.

"Oh, no reason," she grinned, winking at him. Newt rolled his eyes, slamming the trunk shut. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Hey, wait!"

They turned around to see the Bomber Group along with Harriet approaching them, all four of them carrying packs as well. "Let us come with you," Andrea started, shifting her backpack on her shoulder. "Charlie, Dominique and I still have family in there. We can help."

"Yeah, of course." Minho nodded. "There's another van parked in the garage near here. You guys can load your stuff up in there."

Andrea nodded and moved to where he directed her, Dominique, Charlie, and Harriet not far behind her. Cassidy lingered behind, glancing over at Minho nervously. "Um… we found my best friend today. His name is Hunter. If I don't make it back from this, can you tell him I'm sorry for leaving him?”

"Whoa, whoa, hey." Minho stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "No one is dying. Not on my watch. Alright? I don't want quitter's talk."

Cassidy chuckled, smiling back at him. "Who do you take me for? I'm not a quitter."

"That's what I like to hear." Minho clapped her on the shoulder, and after a brief nod, she quickly moved away, following her friends towards the van. Before she went very far, Minho spoke up again. “Hey, Cassidy?” She turned around, giving him a curious look.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Cassidy moved back towards him.

“Why are you helping us?” Minho asked, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to. You found your friend already.”

Cassidy sighed, glancing behind him at Newt, then back at Minho. “I know what it’s like to lose someone close to me. I wouldn’t wish that fate upon anyone else.” Seeming satisfied with her answer, she followed the rest of her group towards the van. Minho watched her retreating form, before going back to join his friends.

When he turned back around, Newt and Frypan were sitting in the front seats of the car, and Brenda stood off to the side, whispering furiously with Jorge who had recently appeared.

Minho climbed into the backseat, and Newt was looking at the map, Frypan leaning over to get a better look. He glanced at the sky, where the Bergs had long since left, and bit his lip. Brenda opened the door, climbing into the middle next to him, with Jorge on her right.

"We ready?" Frypan didn't even need to ask. He turned the key in the car, starting the ignition and pulling out of the camp for possibly the last time. The Bomber Group wasn't far behind them, their headlights visible in the rearview window. Despite the gravity of the situation, Minho had to bite back a grin.

_We're coming, Thomas. And we're going to give WCKD hell._


	2. Into the Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told him that I didn’t want to end up like the kids back there, y’know, the ones that WCKD was draining. He told me that he wouldn’t let me. What if it had been me instead of him, Newt?”
> 
> “He would’ve gone through hell to get you back.”
> 
> “I know. Which is why I’m willing to go through hell for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so kind of a short chapter, but a LOT happens, and buckle up bc Thomas and Teresa are making their first appearances:)
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> (this is super unbeta'd so if you see any errors please lmk)

When Thomas woke up, he was in a different area than he remembered.

 

The last thing he could recall before he woke up was being escorted by guards onto a train, and promptly chained to a chair before he could protest. He had caught sight of Aris and Sonya being hauled onto the car ahead of him. None of the immunes knew where they were being taken, but none of them had the right to ask.

 

However, sitting up, he could tell that he  _ definitely _ wasn’t on a train. Casting a glance around him, his heart nearly stopped as he recognized the scenery around him. The thick ivy-covered stone walls, a large opening in one of the walls, a stretch of grass and poorly built buildings…

 

He was back in the Glade.

 

Thomas had woken up on a sleeping bag, and he briefly glanced down next to him, his heart stopping as he saw Newt lying there.  _ Newt _ , who he hadn’t seen for god knows how long, was  _ here. _

 

“Newt,” Thomas said, shaking the other boy, who groaned and buried his face into Thomas’ leg. “Newt, is it really you?”

 

“What kind of a question is that?” Newt’s groggy voice made Thomas’ stomach lurch. He didn’t think he was ever going to hear it again. “Go back to sleep. You’re clearly shucked in the head.”

 

“Newt-”

 

“ _ Tommy _ .” Thomas’ breath caught in his throat, and Newt’s voice urged him back onto the sleeping bag. His hand found Newt’s and it was so  _ warm _ , maybe it was real, maybe it was nothing but a bad dream-

 

“Are you okay?” Newt’s voice was concerned, and his thumb moved gently over the back of Thomas’ hand. Thomas could feel Newt’s breaths on his skin and it grounded him, easing his tension. “Tommy, what’s wrong?”

 

Thomas leaned his head on Newt’s collarbone, taking shaky breaths and closing his eyes. “I know you’re not here. I don’t want to wake up. Please don’t make me wake up,  _ please _ -”

 

“Whoa, hey. Hey. Thomas.” Newt tilted his chin up to meet his gaze, gently rubbing his cheek with his thumb. “You’re alright. You’re here with me. Yeah?” Newt’s soil-brown eyes bore into Thomas’ skin, gaze gentle and understanding. For a split second, Thomas almost believed that it was real. His eyes slipped shut as he melted into Newt’s touch.

 

His eyes snapped open again when Newt’s hand suddenly became burning hot, and the blond let out a couple of shuddering coughs. It was as if everything had changed in a split second, as it had gone from blissfully peaceful to life-shattering.

 

Newt’s neck, arms, face, every visible inch of skin was covered in hideous black veins, his eyes glossed over by a layer of black and blood on his lips. Thomas screamed, scrambling backward, away from his infected friend. It wasn’t at all like that night at the party; no, this felt hauntingly  _ real _ , like a dream he couldn’t ever wake up from.

 

“Tommy-” Newt choked, before hunching over and choking on his own blood, vomiting on the ground. Thomas shook his head, shutting his eyes as if not looking would make it go away.  _ Make it stop make it stop make it stop- _

 

Thomas stood up abruptly, doing the only thing he knew best: running. He ran, and he ran, and he ran, the forest seemingly stretching on forever. He glanced over his shoulder a few times, but Newt was out of sight and didn’t appear to be following him.

 

“Thomas.”

 

Thomas stopped dead in his tracks, not wanting to turn around. “Minho?”

 

“Thomas, what’s going on?”

 

Thomas shook his head, placing his hands over his ears to block out his voice. “Stop it. It’s not real. It’s not real.”

 

“Hey-”

 

“ _ Stop it! _ ” Thomas screamed, his entire body trembling now. “Please.” He worked up the courage to turn around, to look at Minho, and he immediately regretted doing so, as his throat protested his screaming again. Minho was infected too, his skin rotten like Newt’s and blood all over his clothes. Thomas stumbled away but was met with the sight of his other friends with the Flare.

 

Tears streamed down Thomas’ face, and he clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the images. “Stop it, stop it  _ please! _ ” He didn’t even know who he was yelling at, but whoever was listening- “Please stop!”

 

Thomas’ kept screaming until his throat was too raw to continue.

 

\---

 

As much as she wanted to look away, Teresa couldn’t tear her eyes from the scene. Her former best friend, the boy she grew up with whom she loved so dearly, strapped to a lab table, his body being experimented on against his will. Thomas’ screaming was enough to make her flinch, and a small part of her nearly let a few tears slip, but she couldn’t let Ava see. Teresa didn’t allow her conflict to reach her features, her face one of stone.

  
  


The scientists inside the room with Thomas were putting the serum collected from him inside a vial, carefully examining it before setting it down on a table. One was checking his vitals, shining a light into his eyes to ensure that he was still responding. “Not as effective as the Maze, but it works.” One said, glancing back at Thomas. “We’re going to need more, though. Do we have your permission to continue, Chancellor?”

 

Teresa felt Ava’s stare for a brief second before she spoke, “Go ahead.” The scientist moved away from the window, pressing a few buttons on the machine next to Thomas. Almost instantly, his breathing began to accelerate again, and beads of sweat dripped down his face. Teresa grabbed her arm to keep it from trembling.

 

She heard Ava walk away before Thomas started to cry out again, but Teresa didn’t move. A hollow feeling blossomed in her chest, watching Thomas’ expressions. What she had done was for the good of the world, but the doubt in her began to spring up.

 

Was the cost worth it?

 

\---

 

By the time the group stopped again, the first traces of dawn were on the horizon, the sky painted a comforting hue of pink. They pulled in in front of the tunnel, Frypan surveying the map quizzically.

 

“Yeah, it’s through here,” he confirmed, glancing into the tunnel that stretched into a black, endless abyss in front of them. Minho sighed in slight annoyance.

 

Brenda voiced his thoughts aloud, “It can never be easy for us, can it?”

 

“Nothing’s easy anymore,” Jorge said, opening his car door. “We should talk with the rest of the group, come up with a plan before we go charging in.”

 

“Never thought I’d hear those words,” Newt quipped, following Jorge’s lead and sliding out of his chair onto the dirt road outside.

 

The Bomber Group had begun to climb out as well when Minho got outside, Harriet approaching first. “I hate to break it to you guys, but that tunnel might not be the best idea.”

 

Newt nodded. “If I were a Crank, that’s exactly where I would be.”

 

“Well, thankfully, you’re not,” Charlie replied, leaning against the back of the van with crossed arms. Newt bit his lip, hand moving to his arm silently. “So maybe it really is empty?”

 

“Right,” Cassidy rolled her eyes, giving Charlie a look. “You’re not that stupid. I’m with Harriet.”

 

“It’s our only idea,” Frypan said, looking down at the map. “We have to go twenty miles out of the way if we want to go around, and we can’t spare the fuel for that.”

 

Everyone sighed collectively, and Minho rubbed his chin in thought. “We’re just gonna have to power through.” After an incredulous look from everyone, he added, “Have someone with a gun sticking their head out of the sunroof and clear a path.”

 

“Can we spare the ammo?” Frypan asked, and Minho shrugged.

 

“We’re gonna have to.” Minho moved back towards the truck, and everyone else followed his lead. Before he climbed in, he shouted out one last order. “Take it  _ slow _ , and stay close. Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

Charlie saluted him, and the rest climbed into the van, the ignition quickly turning on implying that they were ready to go. Minho climbed into his own truck, and Brenda had moved to the front seat, with Newt standing on the middle seat with a semi-automatic aimed at the tunnel ahead of them. He turned around and gave a thumbs up to someone, presumably who was positioned on the truck behind them, and the two vehicles began to accelerate slowly in what was definitely certain danger.

 

The tunnel was just as dark as what it had looked like from the outside, the only thing illuminating it was Newt’s flashlight and a couple of broken, flickering light fixtures. So far, it was quiet. Too quiet. And it set Minho’s nerves on edge.

 

“I don’t like this,” Frypan muttered, his voice being the only thing breaking the silence. The rest nodded in quiet agreement, Minho anxiously staring out the window. Newt didn’t say anything, as he was intent on listening.

 

The truck rolled slowly on for what felt like forever, the tunnel beginning to look longer and longer. Newt’s leg started to bounce out of anxiety and the tension in the car could probably be cut with a knife. “Fry, speed up a little,” Minho whispered, glancing up at the still-unmoving Newt. “How’s it looking?”

 

“Empty,” Newt said, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. “Maybe we should-” He froze mid-sentence, body suddenly going rigid. Minho looked ahead in concern but didn’t see whatever it was his friend saw.

 

“Newt-”

 

“ _ Shut up! _ ” he hissed under his breath, finger moving to the trigger of his gun. “Do you hear that?” The simple question set Minho’s nerves on fire even more, but he listened closely, trying to hear anything.

 

Everyone collectively jumped when a sudden slamming sound graced their car window, but nothing was there when they looked, only a smear of blood that definitely wasn’t there before. “Shit…” Brenda said as Minho urged Frypan to go faster.

 

Frypan slammed on the acceleration, maybe a little too harshly, because Newt lurched forward and nearly dropped his gun. “Jesus, Fry!”

 

“Sorry.” Minho gripped Newt’s leg to keep him from going flying out of the car, and Frypan began to gradually speed up. The other van wasn’t far behind judging from the noise of the dirt behind them.

 

Slowly, the darkness came to life. A few Cranks came stumbling out of the shadows, then a few became a dozen. Their numbers were multiplying rapidly, and they were about to be food if they didn't get out of there quickly. “Fry,  _ go _ !” Minho urged, tightening his grip on Newt who had his gun trained on them.

 

Frypan accelerated quite a bit, Cranks falling against the front of the car with pained snarls. Minho winced as more blood splattered over the windows and he could hear the sound of frail bones breaking. Newt still hadn’t fired, and neither had the other driver. Minho knew it was too risky; more noise would just draw more of them out, but it still set his nerves on edge.

 

It was like the Cranks were multiplying by the second. More and more of them started crawling out of their hiding spots, swarming the truck until it became impossible to move. Minho flinched away from the windows as a woman began to scream at him, and others swarmed her and began pounding on the glass. “There’s too many of them!” Frypan yelled over the chaos.

 

“Newt!” Minho shouted, and the blond looked down at him. “I know the noise is gonna suck, but you need to clear a path!” Newt nodded and shouted over his shoulder at Dominique, and the van pulled up next to them. At the sound of bullets, the rest in the truck covered their ears, the noise echoing around the small space.

 

Newt fired, his gun jerking back sharply and he let out a pained yelp, arm moving to his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Minho shouted, and he nodded, moving his gun back into position, still flinching every time the recoil moved back on his arm.

 

Frypan began to press the truck forward, and the van wasn’t far behind, but it was still difficult to move. The Cranks were pressing down on them now, and Minho nearly jumped out of his skin when the glass on Jorge’s window cracked. “Fry, we’re running on borrowed time here!”

 

“I’m doing my best!” Frypan said, just as a curse sounded from above and a magazine cartridge fell on Minho’s head.

 

“I’m out!” Newt yelled, climbing back in the car and sitting down in the middle of the backseat. “Fry, we have to go, now!”

 

Frypan shifted the gears and slammed on the pedal, mowing down a couple of Cranks in the process. The ones Newt and Dominique had taken out provided a narrow path and Frypan was able to speed past the Cranks and towards the light at the end of the tunnel. Newt sighed, collapsing backward in his seat, and Jorge patted him on the shoulder.

 

“Oh shit, I forgot my wallet in the tunnel!” Brenda spoke up suddenly, her voice filled with mock panic. “Newt, can you run back in and get it for me?”

 

Newt groaned. “Bugger off,” he said, giving her the finger. Minho chuckled, eyes moving out the window again, watching the scenery through the cracked glass. He watched the tunnel fade gradually away in the rearview mirror and allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. “Fry, please tell me there are no more dark, creepy tunnels on our route,” Newt said, leaning forward to look at the map Brenda was holding.

 

“Lucky for you, no,” Brenda replied for Frypan, her finger moving along the marked route. “Only about 50 miles to go and we’ll be able to see the Last City.”

 

Newt sat back in his seat, and Minho’s eyes moved back out the window. His mind was bogged down with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. They were going to get Thomas back, he was sure of that much, but thinking of all the ways it could go wrong left an ache in his chest. However, looking over at Newt, he saw his friend brighter than he’d ever seen him since Thomas found a way out.

 

So he decided to keep the pessimism to himself.

 

\---

 

An hour of boring Scorch scenery later, they pulled to a stop at an overlook standing on a ravine. Minho was out first and the rest following him just as the other van pulled up next to them.

 

From where they were at, there was very clearly a city in the distance. Not the cities with the rusted, rotting buildings like they were used to, but a  _ real _ city, surrounded by a wall that looked small from a distance and shiny buildings that glistened in the sunlight.

 

The whole group joined Minho at the overlook, everyone silent for a few moments but the air was heavy, a certain anxiety yet determination present in all of their expressions.

 

Dominique broke the silence. “No turning back now, huh?”

 

“I’m not about to,” Charlie replied, shifting his weight onto one leg. “My brother’s in there. It would take a meteor shooting down from the sky and hitting me dead in the back to stop me.”

 

Cassidy groaned. “Lovely visual, Char.”

 

“I try.”

 

Noticing Newt’s silence, Minho glanced over, and his face was covered with that careful mask that he’d conjured over the years, his face unreadable. “What’s on your mind, man?” Minho asked, and Newt glanced over at him briefly before looking back at the city.

 

“It’s just…” Newt started before letting out a tense sigh. “If Tommy is in there, it’s gonna be really hard to get him back.”

 

“Wait, you’re not giving up, are you?” Minho was taken aback, and Newt quickly shook his head.

 

“No. I’ll never give up on Thomas.” His eyes moved to his feet and back to the city. “Six months ago in the Scorch, the night Winston died, I made a promise to him. Told him that he was the reason we were free, the reason that we escaped from WCKD. I told him that I wouldn’t let him give up, ever. It just doesn’t seem fair to give up on the guy that led me out here, y’know?”

 

Minho nodded, and Newt gave him a sad smile, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his arm. “Thomas made me a promise, too.” Newt looked up, looking genuinely interested. Minho continued. “I told him that I didn’t want to end up like the kids back there, y’know, the ones that WCKD was draining.” Newt nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “He told me that he wouldn’t let me. What if it had been me instead of him, Newt?”

Newt allowed a small smile to upturn his lips. “He would’ve gone through hell to get you back.”

Minho smiled back at him. “I know. Which is why I’m willing to go through hell for  _ him _ .”

The blond looked sad suddenly, and refused to make eye contact with Minho. “Min, there’s… something you should know.” His hand was rubbing his arm again, and Minho looked at him in concern.

“Is everything okay?” Minho asked, and Newt opened his mouth to respond, but jumped at the sound of a loud slam against metal. Jorge had his hand dangling out a window, banging on the truck door.

“We’re not about to rescue Thomas by standing here staring at the city,” he said, moving his arm back in the car. “Let’s go.”

Minho nodded, mouthing ‘Later?’ at Newt, who seemed to agree but still had an oddly disturbed look on his face. Deciding to ignore it for now and ask when they talked again, the two climbed back into the car and Frypan signaled to the other van that they were ready to go.

The Last City became menacingly bigger the closer they got, and it sent chills down Minho’s spine. The thought of Thomas in there disturbed him more than anything, and he was more determined than anything to get him out. Alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...first of all I'd like to apologize. second of all I'd like to say that I'm not sorry at all.
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed!! sorry for the short chapter (i literally could NOT write it lol i am so sorry) but the next should be pretty damn good, for reasons i am not willing to specify quite yet:)


	3. Remembrance and Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slides in a month late on heelies* heeeeey guys.
> 
> im so so so sorry for the late update, and im even more sorry that its super late and super short. ive had a hectic month (involving an incident with destroying my finger in my locker) and this chapter was a bitch to write. it's entirely Teresa-centric, which is why it was hard, but hopefully the next update will be quicker and longer since it'll include both POVs.
> 
> again, im super sorry for the late update and short chapter, but I promise I'll attempt to make it up to you with the next one!

The room was quiet. Too quiet. Her chest was a raging storm, and her apartment was a still, quiet sky. It made Teresa want to scream.

 

She pulled her blazer on, surveying herself in the mirror. If she had seen what she looked like six months ago, in the Scorch or even the Maze, she imagined how much different she must look now. Her face was clear of any dirt or grime, her clothes were clean and ironed neatly, and her hair was washed and tied back into a bun. Her heart jolted as she thought of Newt, Minho, Brenda and her other friends still out there, while she was in here, wearing nice clothes and having access to a shower.

 

Teresa quickly shook away the thought, mentally scolding herself for letting her thoughts be drawn back. There was no room for regret now.

 

A short walk through the city later found Teresa at the WCKD compound, approaching Ava who appeared to be in conversation with a couple of employees she didn’t recognize. They were dressed as nicely as she was, meaning that they probably weren’t scientists. Just the ones who told the scientists what to do.

 

Upon noticing her arrival, Ava nodded to them, glancing over at Teresa. The two began to walk, Ava asking, “Are you nervous?” Teresa didn’t respond, letting the silence do the talking for her. Ava seemed to take the hint, because she lightly touched her back reassuringly. “You’ll be fine.” Teresa bit her lip, choosing to hold her tongue for just a moment longer.

 

Teresa heard Ava talking during the meeting, but found it difficult to concentrate when Thomas’ face was projected onto the screen. He looked like a lab rat, a prisoner. A voice in the back of her head told her that’s exactly what he was because of her. She chose to ignore it.

 

“We were starting to wonder,” The woman on the right speaking up drew Teresa out of her trance, and her eyes moved away from Ava. “If our resources could be better spent…” she hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right word. “Elsewhere.”

 

“Care to explain?” Ava asked, hands clasped in front of her. There was no malice in her tone, only genuine curiosity.

 

“Safe zones, like the one we have here,” she said, matching Ava’s gaze. “If we use the resources we have left on those, we can save so many more people.”

 

Teresa couldn’t stay silent anymore. “How many?” She felt her palms sweat slightly as the entire room went silent and everyone’s gaze was drawn to her. The brunette moved to the front of the room, speaking as she walked. “A thousand? Two thousand? And that’s assuming that these so called safe zones stay safe, which we know perfectly well they won’t.” Ava moved to sit down as Teresa continued the speech she’d prepared for so much the words basically rolled off her tongue. “The infected already outnumber the healthy three to one. You’d just be delaying the inevitable.”

 

Teresa took a breath, glancing at their faces. She’d struck some kind of nerve, as they had all gone solemnly silent. “Have any of you… lost someone to the virus?” It was difficult to not choke on her words as her sweet mother’s face flashed in her eyes in a flicker.

 

The room fell silent for a moment more, before the same woman spoke up again. “My niece… Anna.”

 

Teresa nodded, a solemn apology falling off her lips. “I’m sorry we couldn’t help her. But what if I told you that we can  _ live  _ with the virus? We have the means for a cure, and with your approval, we can help people.” Teresa’s eyes fell back on the woman. “We can help other kids like Anna. Prevent the disease from wiping us all out. Before it’s too late.” The last sentence was said as nothing more than a murmur, but the impact was compelling nonetheless.

 

“So what do you propose we do?” The man in the middle spoke up, as if he didn’t know what the sole purpose of this meeting was.

 

Teresa sucked in a breath. “Allow us to… start human experimentation. On Thom… Subject A2. And the other subjects if necessary.”

 

Sensing Teresa’s disdain, Ava spoke up, wrapping up their thoughts in a neat little bow. “He’s turning out to be our most promising subject yet.”

 

The meeting concluded with the approval from the board to continue the experimentation, and even after all the paperwork was signed, Teresa lingered in the room, eyes watching the busy city streets as the black-out screen was raised. She heard the clicking of Ava’s heels against the tile behind her, but didn’t turn around.

 

Teresa thought of the sick. Her mother. That lady’s niece, Anna. The people she saw being contained at the stations as she walked back to her apartment. Thomas could save them all. WCKD could finally do what they had set out to do: save the world. Or, if they couldn’t develop a permanent cure from Thomas’ blood, which was a more likely outcome, they could at least buy themselves some time.

 

So why did Teresa feel so…  _ wrong _ ?

 

“Do you still think about him?” Ava broke the silence, stirring Teresa out of her thoughts. “I’ve known you two for a long time, I know how close you are. I know how hard it must be for you to watch him in the labs.”

 

Teresa didn’t respond, gaze lowering to the floor. Taking her silence as permission to continue talking, Ava said, “I can help with that. The memories. It’s a simple procedure, it should help with the… pain.”

 

“While I appreciate the offer,” Teresa said, eyes moving back up. “They’re the last thing I have of how things used to be. If we find a cure, I still have to find a way to live with myself.” Ava nodded in understanding, and the two stood in comfortable silence for a moment more.

 

\---

 

Later that afternoon, Teresa sat at her desk, huddled over a microscope. Last time she had looked at the clock, it read 4:11, but it had been a long time since she’d glanced over. She had a tendency to get so wrapped up in work, not even her thoughts plagued her.

 

She preferred it that way.

 

As she was scribbling something down on her notepad, someone cleared their throat and said, “Teresa?”

 

Teresa glanced up, to see one of the head researchers standing there, dressed in a lab coat and his hands clasped tightly in front of him. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was there for. He gestured for her to follow. “You’re needed in the med wing.”

 

She quickly stood up, leaving her notepad and pen abandoned on her desk. The scientist made no attempt to talk to her, which she was grateful for, because she wasn’t sure if she was capable of holding a conversation at this moment.

 

Walking into the lab, Teresa tried to hide her nerves and anticipation with a soft smile. A little girl laid there, her brown skin crawling with veins from the Flare and her once starry brown eyes darkened to a sickening shade of black. “Hi, Cheyenne,” Teresa greeted, pulling out a chair to sit down next to her.

 

“Hi, Miss Teresa,” Cheyenne said, her voice weaker and more strained than the last time Teresa had spoken to her. Teresa bit her lip, nodding to the doctor behind her, who applied a disinfectant to Cheyenne’s arm.

 

“How are you feeling?” The question was almost stupid, but Cheyenne made an attempt to give an optimistic response.

 

“Okay,” she said, as Teresa was handed a injector with the serum harvested from Thomas in a thin vial inside. Cheyenne glanced at it warily for a moment, before looking back up at Teresa. “Is that… gonna help?”

 

A thin-lipped smile graced Teresa’s features. “I hope so.” She grasped Cheyenne’s hand gently, moving to stick the needle of the injector into the little girl’s arm. Cheyenne made a strangled noise of pain, her toes curling and her head tipping backwards.

 

“It hurts!” she whined, and Teresa grimaced at the white-knuckled grip Cheyenne had on her hand.

 

“I know, I know…” Teresa said gently, watching the serum in the vial carefully until there was no more left. Quickly pulling it out, the young scientist put it on the tray behind her. “All done! All done.”

 

The entire room went silent. The apprehension among the scientists was palpable, all of them stopping what they were doing to watch Cheyenne. The little girl’s toes slowly uncurled, her grip on Teresa’s hand relaxing. Her breathing steadied, and she looked over at Teresa with her eyes clearing of the nasty blackness. Teresa could’ve swore her heart stopped for a brief second.

 

“I… feel a lot better already.”

 

\---

 

Janson was on his way to the medical wing as soon as he got Ava’s memo. It had said that Thomas’ blood had  _ wiped out  _ the Flare in that little girl they’d been holding, but… he’d have to see it to believe it.

 

Despite his skepticism, he moved quicker than his normal pace, and soon he was standing next to Ava, looking through the glass. He almost couldn’t breathe for a moment, watching the little girl talking animatedly to Teresa. “Oh, that’s amazing.” Trying to hide the eagerness in his tone, he continued, “How soon can we get the serum distributed?”

 

“We don’t want to kill Thomas,” Ava said simply, glancing over at Janson briefly. “But we do need to extract as much from him as we can, as soon as possible. Then, we can work on mass producing the cure. So maybe 2 or 3 weeks?”

 

“What, that long?”

 

“You sure sound concerned for a man that just opened fire on a crowd of people trying to find one small group.” Her tone had an uncharacteristic bite to it, and Janson sighed.

 

“I was only doing my job,” he said, no remorse in his voice. Ava stayed silent for a few more moments.

 

“Do your job faster. And try not to destroy the city we’re trying to cure.” She walked away then, Janson following her with his eyes. He looked back at the little girl, with the angry veins missing from her skin and her eyes shining with a brightness that they’d never seen in all the time they had her here. Janson’s left hand began to tremble, and he grasped it with his right, a malice he’d never before felt filling his brain like a floodgate had been opened.

 

\---

 

By the time Teresa was done in the med-wing, the clock read 7:32. Not long until curfew. There was one more stop she wanted to make before she went home for the day.

 

The guards in the bunker gave her some odd stares, but they didn’t question her request, unbolting the door without a second thought. “He might not be entirely conscious,” One guard said, stationing himself outside the door. “I don’t know what you’re hoping for, but if you want to talk to him, he’s not going to be responsive.”

 

“I’ll just be a minute,” Teresa said, avoiding their curious glances. She saw the guard shrug out of the corner of her eye, and she slowly crept forward into the dimly lit room.

 

The bunker wasn’t the nicest, but it was certainly a far cry from the hammocks in the Glade. She knew the others had stayed in a similar area after escaping the Maze, but unlike that room, this one was quiet. She saw a dark form huddled on the lower bunk furthest from the door, and she slowly sat down on the edge.

 

Like they’d said, he wasn’t exactly conscious. Thomas’ eyes were open, but they were blank as if he were a corpse. They’d injected him with plenty of sedatives for the trials and they had yet to wear off. Teresa felt her eyes sting as she watched her former best friend, his barely rising and falling chest the only indication that he was alive.

 

Even when they were kids, when they were first brought to WCKD, she’d never seen Thomas look so  _ helpless _ . Back then he’d been scared, but beneath that was a layer of curiosity and boldness that gave him the look of the fiercest five year old she’d ever seen. He’d lost everything, and yet, he carried on. Now, everything had been stolen from him, and that boy was gone.

 

Teresa had no idea what Thomas saw in the trials, but she could only guess. Ava had told her briefly that the simulator revealed some of the greatest fears of the person who had to endure it; unveiling their worst nightmares and creating a twisted reality to them. Thomas was selfless. His main concern was protecting his friends whom he loved so dearly they were like family to him. He had been so torn up over Chuck because he couldn’t save him.

 

Even with all the sedatives, Teresa could still see a hint of pain and sorrow on Thomas’ face. It was possible that the simulator was forcing him to watch his friends die a horrible death, without him being there to save them. A pang of guilt struck her at the thought.

 

Teresa brushed his bangs gently out of his eyes, quietly murmuring to him even though she knew that he wasn’t conscious enough to hear. “Thomas… no matter what happens next, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” She sighed, watching his unblinking, defeated chocolate brown eyes. “I’m sorry it had to be you. You’ve been through so much; if anyone deserves to live a life free away from here, it’s you.

 

“I’m not sorry I did it,” she quickly clarified, as though he protested against the apology. “Well, that’s a lie. I am sorry. I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust, and I’m sorry I’m the reason you’re being tested against your own will. But in the end… if you can save humanity, I think I made the right choice. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

 

Teresa didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but Thomas gave no indication that he had heard her words. He didn’t even give a twitch or stir from his semi-conscious state. Sighing for what felt like the millionth time, Teresa stood up, walking out of the cell and away from the boy she loved with all her heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick note on the last line -- this is not a thomesa centric fic, and i am not implying Teresa's romantic feelings for Thomas (which did exist at some point, but maybe not here). the love that i am implying here is the one they've shared as they grew up together, and the one that has never left Teresa. just wanted to make that clear:)
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! feel free to hmu on tumblr if you ever want to scream at me: your-local-geek

**Author's Note:**

> maybe one day I'll write happy Newt. but today is not that day.
> 
> ALSO hope you guys enjoyed!! you're in for a TRUCKLOAD of angst so look forward to that:)
> 
> no promises on an update schedule bc i am inconsistent as all hell so. it updates when it updates
> 
> feel free to scream at me on tumblr: your-local-geek


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